It doesn’t count: first year is not just practice

There’s so much reading. It doesn’t count. They talk too fast to take notes. It doesn’t count. Assessments are tough. It doesn’t count. How do you even write this? It doesn’t count. Whatever the grievance, whatever the worries, those ‘comforting’ words are told to us. First year doesn’t count.

No words of sympathy, no constructive feedback, just dismissal. The phrase may very well have solidified inside my brain forever. Like the sound of tinnitus, I hear it sometimes in silences. And no, it is not a comforting sound.

I would quite like, not only to pass the year, but to do as well as I can. I like to believe that in working hard this year the jumps to the second and third will be less punishing. If nothing else, I would like the various seminars and lectures that are responsible for the vast majority of my student debt, to be fully experienced.

Those ‘comforting’ words are told to us. First year doesn’t count.

Therefore the late night study sessions that I’ve been pulling off in order to fit in cooking, sleeping, a social life, commitments to societies, looking for housing and keeping in touch with family and friends, feel mostly justified. That is until I suddenly remember, at one in the morning, a seminar I haven’t done the reading for. In these moments, degrees feel like the stupidest things on Earth.

I seem to cycle through three moods. Quiet anxiousness as I make my way through the swarm of work, guilt-fuelled ignorance when I’m not working, and of course the famous student breakdown as I face the consequences of my many procrastinations. Nevertheless, I have not missed a single lecture or seminar, I have submitted all my assessments in on time, and I have all my notes neatly typed up. The work load is therefore possible, if extremely taxing.

In these moments degrees feel like the stupidest things on Earth.

To tell the truth, this was something I was warned of. Indeed, a constant level of stress has been described to me as one of the key characteristics of being a student. Furthermore, as time goes on I find that the initial explosion of the beginning of the year begin to subside, as a vague schedule take place.

That may mean that some commitments have had to go and some outings have had to be missed, but I am feeling increasingly settled in my new position. Dare I say, that, at my most peaceful, I actually enjoy my subject, and still feel delighted that I chose it. In lulling myself into a sense of security, a part of me in looking increasingly to years two and three of my degree.

As time goes on I find that the initial explosion of the beginning of the year begin to subside, as a vague schedule take place.

I am aware, of course, that a similar learning curve exists me at the start of these years. I have been told that things become increasingly difficult, in terms of workload and work difficulty. However, I remain optimistic.  Why? Because I know of the great relief that awaits me over these two years. No one, not once, will ever tell me again that ‘This year doesn’t count’!